


Honorary Cheeseburgers

by lavenderlotion



Series: Lav Watched Endgame [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Awkward Flirting, BAMF Harley Keener, BAMF Peter Parker, Cheeseburgers, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, M/M, Nervous Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Team Tony Stark, Wakes & Funerals, hand holding, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: He has no idea what’s going on around them nor does he care, not when Peter is staring up at him from under his lashes and sucking on his bottom lip. “C’mon, Pete. From what I’ve heard, I think we’d get on great, and that was before I knew you were so damn gorgeous.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This made my heart happy. I hope it helps with some of the Endgame grief.

Harley is minding his own business in the corner, ignoring the hordes of superheroes and other seemingly important people as they filter in and out of Tony’s home. It’s his first time here, considering he spent  _ five years _ being dust while Tony went off and retired. He still doesn’t totally get everything that went down, but he knows that in the end, Tony saved the entire fucking galaxy. 

And he died doing it.

The house is cute, homey, exactly what Tony has always wanted for himself. Harley has to dig his fingers into his palm against the wave of  _ sorrow _ that threatens to pull him under. It’s only been a few days since he got the call from Happy and it’s...it still hurts. He thinks it’s always going to hurt, losing Tony Stark—the closest thing he’s ever had to a dad. 

He looks up from where he’s frowning at the floor and breathing deeply, and he sees the boy he’d only gotten glimpses of earlier. The boy’s hair is even curlier in the front, his eyes the warmest brown Harley’s ever seen, and there’s a flush sitting on his cheeks as he talks to Pepper. Harley’s heart does something funny, a little pitter-patter in his chest, and suddenly it feels very, very important to go talk to him, seeing as he’s the prettiest fuckin’ thing Harley’s ever seen.

It’s easy to ignore the all-consuming grief now that he has something else to focus on—a mission, Tony would call it, if he were here. 

“Hey, Pep,” Harley says, the nickname sliding out of his mouth easily. His voice cracks, but he ignores it, hugging her close the second she turns to him. When he pulls back, her eyes are shining. “Hey, hey, no crying right now. We’re  _ celebrating _ , right? That’s what we’re supposed to be doing now.”

“You’re right,” she says, and in her next breath, she is the perfectly composed woman she always is, and not for the first time Harley is blown away by her strength. His eyes flick to the boy to find him watching her with an awed sort of reverence, and he hopes he ain’t about to bark up the wrong tree. Pepper must see his gaze stray, because she’s firm when she tells, “Behave.”

Harley gives her a little salute and watches as she goes to get Morgan from where she’s chattering away with...actually, Harley is pretty sure that’s the King of Wakanda. Huh. He turns to the boy and lets his eyes rake over his body, taking in the way the black slacks make his legs look like they go on forever, and how his waist tapers in from a nice set of shoulders. 

“Hey there,” Harley drawls smoothly, holding out his hand to shake. When the boy takes it, Harley immediately pulls him forward so he can brush a kiss to his knuckles. It’s only as he’s staring into the boy’s eyes that he realizes who he is. “You’re Peter, right?”

“I-I am,” the boy stutters, his cheeks flushing. It’s fucking  _ gorgeous _ , and Harley twists his lips into the most charming smile he can muster—taught to him by none other than Tony. “You are?”

“I’m Harley Keener,” he says with a bigger grin, tipping his head in a little bow. Mostly, he uses it as an opportunity to check Peter out again, putting a face to the name he’s heard so much about.

“Oh, Harley!” Peter exclaims, seemingly unaware that Harley is actually still holding his hand. “Mr. Stark has told me so much about you!” The boy deflates as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his entire  _ being _ dulling at the mention of the reason they’re all here. 

Harley’s smile dims too, but he tries to power through. “He’s told me a lot about you too, actually. You were, like, his favourite person.”

“Dude,  _ no way _ !  _ You _ were his favourite!” Peter argues, smiling again. It’s a cheeky thing, something teasing and playful, and Harley thinks he could lose himself it in easily. 

He chuckles again, stepping a bit closer as he lowers his voice. “Seems he forgot to tell me how pretty you are, though.”

“W-what?” Peter asks adorably, his fingers tightening around Harley’s own. His mouth drops open as his eyes flick down to their joined his hands, as if he’s just realizing they’re still holding each other. 

“So I was wonderin’ if you’d like to join me for some honorary cheeseburgers?” Harley asks, stepping even closer and running his thumb over Peter’s fingers. The boy blushes even darker, and  _ damn _ , Harley is gone.

“A-are you asking me out? At Mr. Stark’s  _ funeral _ ?” Peter’s voice raises several octaves, but the squeak in which he calls Harley out in is adorable. 

“Yes,” Harley says simply, stepping even closer. “I knew Tony pretty well, and I think he would definitely be okay with me using his reception to pick up the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Y-you.  _ Really _ ?” 

“Really really,” he says, his other hand resting on Peter’s hip. He has no idea what’s going on around them nor does he  _ care _ , not when Peter is staring up at him from under his lashes and sucking on his bottom lip. “C’mon, Pete. From what I’ve heard, I think we’d get on  _ great _ , and that was before I knew you were so damn gorgeous.”

Peter is quiet for a moment, staring up at him as he seems to think over Harley’s proposal. His own heart is racing inside his chest, his hands getting clammy enough that Peter can probably feel the dampness of his palm, but he doesn’t dare back down. He doesn’t think for one second that Tony telling him about Peter was for nothing, and while  _ this _ may not have been exactly what the old man intended—Harley truly thinks he’d be happy if he saw them. 

“Let me go tell my Aunt,” Peter tells him, but before Harley can say anything he’s stepping forward, pressing their bodies together and leaning up to kiss Harley’s cheek sweetly. The second Peter’s lips touch his skin his brain all but short circuits, and he blue screens while Peter pulls back, staring up at him with a pretty smile and a prettier blush. “Wait for me out front, Harles.”

The nickname makes him smile easily, easier than he has in  _ days _ , and he does a little victory fist bump that has Peter laughing even as he walks away. 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter looks down from where he'd been attempting to sneak out of Mr. Stark's house—and  _ wow _ , just thinking that makes his chest ache—, to find Morgan tugging on the leg of his slacks, staring up at him with a pout that's so adorable it does a good job of melting his heart even as it breaks it. With a glance around to see if anyone is paying attention to them, he crouches down so he's closer to eye level with the little girl, and stares into a pair of eyes that are too familiar.

“Hiya, Miss Stark,” Peter says quietly, uncurling the girl's hand from his pant leg so she can hold on to his fingers instead. “What can I do for you today, pretty lady?”

“Are you Peter?” she asks, her eyes bright and her voice hushed, and Peter's chest goes unbearably tight, knowing she'll grow up without Tony Stark.

“I am,” he says, his voice cracking even as he sniffles. God, he's going to start crying and then this adorable little girl is going to start crying and May is going to make him go home and he's going to miss his date and he'll never see Harley again because he never even got his number and everything is going to fall apart and—

“My Daddy used to talk about you,” she tells him seriously, and Peter makes a noise dangerously close to a sob. Her free hand pats his face, wiping away tears that Peter hadn't realized he'd let fall. “He says he loved you very much, and that he missed you very, very much, and that I would be very, very,  _ very _ lucky if I ever got to meet you.”

Peter tries to say something, but all that comes out of his mouth is a broken noise. He takes a deep breath, and then another when it still feels like he has the weight of a building sitting upon his chest. “I'm the lucky one,” he manages, his voice rough around the lump in his throat and the tears that are still falling.

She pats his cheeks again, and then seems to ignore the fact that he's crying like a baby when she asks, “Are you leaving?”

Peter's eyes go wide, and the question shocks him enough that his mouth drops open. He had asked May, of course, but she had told him to be discrete about it. This was certainly not being discrete. “Uh-I. Yes, I am.”

“Okay,” she says, straightening herself out and dusting off her dress. She turns towards the door, Peter's fingers still tucked into her little hand. “I'm ready to go.”

Peter blinks down at her stupidly, his mouth working even if no noise comes out. She looks so much like Tony. She has his eyes. Peter doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to look at her and not ache. “I-uh, well, you see, Miss Stark, I'm going  _ out _ ,” Peter tells her as he stands. He absolutely does not have the willpower to tell her no, so he really hopes that she figures out what he means.

“I know,” she tells him. Oh, right. She's five. She has no idea what the hell Peter is trying to tell her without telling her so he doesn’t have to say no to her. 

“Uhm, not that I don't want you to come, Miss Stark, but I'm going on a date.” 

“Okay,” she tells him again, staring unblinkingly at the door they're standing beside. Peter sighs as he resigns himself to the fact that his date is completely ruined, but maybe if he's lucky, Harley will still want to see him after this. The other boy is...well, he's certainly attractive, and from what he's heard of him, he's  _ really _ smart. Peter definitely doesn't have a kink for intelligence...but he totally has a kink for intelligence.

Peter lets out a big breath, letting his shoulders drop is resignation. Looks around the room and is glad no one is watching them. “Does your Mom know you're leaving?”

“Of course she does,” she says, all proper and probably lying, and Peter's eyes burn when he sees the same intelligence that had always drawn him to Tony shining in her little eyes.

“Alright then, up we go.” He bends down to lift her up, grabbing her under the shoulders and swinging her up to settle her on his hip, and then having to reposition her when he realizes he doesn't actually have hips to sit her on.

He takes the front steps carefully even as he readjusts her, getting his forearm under her bum as she settled against his chest. She's light as a feather, so Peter really doesn't mind, and she seems to be happy as she grabs the collar of his coat jackets, nuzzling her face into his chest. He smiles down at her, his heart aching like it has since he first landed in front of Mr. Stark and realized that this was the end.

Taking a deep breath, he scans the front yard for Harley and finds him standing beside an older looking sports car. It appears to be in good condition, though computers are more Peters speed than classic cars. The way the other boy smiles when he sees him makes Peter's heart freaking  _ flutter _ even as his breath rushes out of him, and he nearly trips over the bottom stop when their eyes lock.

He ducks his head as soon as he rights himself, reminding himself that he's  _ Spider-Man _ and a cute boy is absolutely not the worst thing he's faced.

Once he’s close enough, Peter finally dares another look up. Harley’s smile has softened, and it makes him look unbearably attractive. “We have a tag along,” Peter says as he sniffles, pushing Morgan up and so her head is resting on his shoulder.

“Heya, good lookin’” Harley greets, his grin handsome enough that Peter's knees feel a little weak. He absolutely does not whimper at the way the sun is hitting Harley's face and sharpening his features. Nope. “What are you doing here, little miss?”

Harley’s voice goes soft and sweet when he speaks to Morgan, and it absolutely does not make Peter swoon.  _ Dear god, what is wrong with him _ . Morgan shrugs, turning her face from Peter’s chest so she can peer at Harley with a look on her face that is far more observant than Peter thinks it should be for someone her age. 

“Daddy says that you and Peter are my brothers,” Morgan tells them, and Peter makes a sharp noise in the back of his throat as he raises his eyes to the sky. 

He doesn’t see Harley’s reaction, but his voice is deeper than he’s heard it so far when he asks, “Is that so?”

Morgan nods, tucking her face back into Peter’s chest. Peter says nothing when he looks over at Harley, but he’s comforted to find that other boy looks like he’s going to cry, too. He had loved Mr. Stark just as fiercely as he had loved Aunt May, and it looks like that love is being channelled into Morgan, and her button nose and sweet voice and too familiar eyes. 

When he reaches out, Harley tangles their fingers together and pulls him against his side. It’s obvious that they both need a minute, seeing as Morgan all about broke their hearts. When Harley presses a kiss to Morgan’s head then one to Peter’s temple, he leans a bit more into the taller boy’s side. 

After a moment, Harley takes a deep breath as he straightens out, though he doesn’t let go of Peter’s hand when he asks, “So, how'd a guy like me get lucky enough to get  _ two _ gorgeous dates, huh?”

Peter lets out a heavy breath, and over the happy tinkle of Morgan laughing delightedly, realizes he's completely screwed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had zero plan of writing this. I have no idea if I'll write more, but I sort of already have an idea for another chapter...so. yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

They’ve been in the car for approximately four minutes when Harley decides, _fuck it_ , and lays his hand on Peter’s thigh. They’re waiting at a stop sign, and he does it slowly, so the other boy can say something if he wants to. But all Peter does it stare at him with these too-pretty eyes and blush prettily, making a little noise when Harley’s fingers wrap around his leg.

 _Fuck_. Yep, it’s just as hot as he always imagined it would be. The way Peter is staring at him makes it even fucking better.

He accelerates slowly, focusing intently on the road even though they’re in the country in the middle of bum fuck nowhere—which is coming from _him_ , who grew up in the middle of nowhere. But Morgan is in the back, humming along with the song on the radio. Which is why Harley is driving _far more_ cautious than he usually does, seeing as she should definitely be in a car seat and isn’t.

“You okay back there, little miss?” he asks, ignoring the tone of worry he can hear in his own voice. Peter keeps looking back at her every few seconds, so he figures the boy won’t be put off by him worrying after the little girl.

“I’m okay, Harles,” she says happily, and Harley cuts his eyes over to Peter with a playful pout.

“That is _not_ going to catch on,”

His smile is even prettier when it's teasing. “Whatever you say, Harles.”

Harley laughs softly, gently squeezing Peter’s thigh which awards him with a hitch in Peter's breath. When he looks over, Peter is staring down at his leg with wide eyes, as if he forgot that Harley was holding onto him. Which seems to keep happening. “You okay there, Pete?”

Peter looks up without saying anything, his mouth dropped open in a way that looks like _sin_ . Harley is suddenly very aware that there is a four-year-old in the back seat with them, especially when his mind shows him exactly what _else_ that mouth could be doing. He doesn't look back to the road until Morgan's tinny little voice asks if they're almost there.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Peter tells her sweetly, and Harley focuses back on getting them into the city without being so distracted by Peter's smile and his eyes and his curly freaking hair that he gets them into an accident.

* * *

He doesn't crash, which is good. Pepper probably wouldn't appreciate them kidnapping her daughter—because if Peter doesn't believe Morgan actually told her mom that she was leaving, Harley doesn't either—and then getting her into a car accident. It would definitely not do anyone any good, so he focuses on the road even with the warmth of Peter's leg under his hand, seeping in through the silky material of his slacks.

“Where are we going?” Morgan asks from the back. She's been sitting quietly for some time, watching the city pass by beside her. She's so adorable that it makes Harley's chest physically ache, and he has to tighten his hold on Peter's thigh to remind himself that this is all real. That he's really back. Unlike everyone else, he hadn't been surprised when he was told that it'd been five years since “ _The Snap”_. He'd felt every minute of being nothing more than dust.

“We're going to get cheeseburgers,” Peter says, covering Harley's hand with his own as he shifts so he can better look back at Morgan. Harley doesn't know if it's to keep his hand in place or to provide comfort of his own, but he likes it either way.

“Wait, really?” Her voice shoots higher than it already is, and Harley can feel it when she starts jumping in her seat. “I _love_ cheeseburgers!”

Peter laughs wetly, and even Harley's eyes begin to sting. He flips his hand around so he can lace their fingers together, squeezing tightly. It helps, being able to hold on to something—and not just because it's the hand of a cute boy, but because it's _Peter Parker, Harles, you'd_ love _him if you ever met him, you two would get on great, God he's a genius_.

“We love cheeseburgers too, little miss,” Harley tells her, turning smoothly into a Burger King parking lot with a grin. Peter laughs again, though this time it sounds far less heartbroken, and Harley sends him a quick grin as he backs into a parking space. He has to take his hand from Peter's hold, but it just means he can stretch it across the back of the boy’s seat as he reverses. All he's doing is parking. That's it. He's totally not showing off by backing into a tiny spot in a tiny parking lot. No sir. He totally did not ever read that backing in was sexy.

By the shy smile Peter is watching him with, he totally knows what Harley is doing and still— _hopefully_ —finds him charming.

Peter gets out of the car as soon as Harley has it in park, a little laugh following him as he walks around to get Morgan out of the back seat. Harley listens to them talk to each quietly, and wonders if Peter feels the same for the little girl as he does—totally smitten and willing to do literally anything she asks—or if Harley only feels that way because his own little sister is now two years older than him and in fucking college.

Harley waits for them to get out, tapping his fingers against his thigh in a nervous tick. They may have a child with them, but Harley is still _very_ aware of the fact that is a date, his _first_ date, and he has absolutely no idea what the hell he's doing. Now that they’re actually at the venue and he can’t focus most of his attention on driving, it feels _very_ real.

He looks up when Peter taps on his window, Morgan settled back in his arms, and his voice is distorted when he asks, “Ready to go?”

Harley smiles up at him, pulling the keys from the ignition and pocketing them as he steps out of the car. It's easy to catch up with them since Peter is hardly more than a step in front of him, and he matches Peter's gait so he can press his hand gently into the small of Peter's back. He likes the way it feels, gently leading Peter to the door, his fingers brushing against the material of Peter's suit jacket.

Opening the door earns him a sweet smile, so he hurries to open the second door as well. Peter brushes closely as he walks past, definitely closer than he needs to, and Harley feels a ridiculous smile twisting his lips up even as he follows the shorter boy into the restaurant. Peter and Morgan are still talking quietly and Harley doesn't bother trying to listen in. Peter is giving his undivided attention to the little girl in his arms, so he lets it be.

There's no line, so Harley leads them straight to the cash. “What can I get you?” the guy asks, his voice laced with annoyance that seems uncalled-for. He looks around quickly, but there's no one else inside. Maybe he's just bored. Or, recovering from Tony’s snap.

“Can we grab a kid’s cheeseburger meal and two regular cheeseburger meals?” Harley asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet, a gift from Tony when he’d turned fifteen.

“Is that everything?” The man’s face twists into a sneer that Harley chooses to ignore. He is used to being judged and looked at with distaste—he’d never felt the need to hide his sexuality, and his small town upbringing had meant he’d faced his fair share of dirty looks and rude remarks.

“Uhm—” Peter cuts in, shuffling a bit closer so Harley’s arm slips further around his waist. “We’ll take two cheeseburgers on the side, please.”

Harley looks at him with a raised brow, but doesn’t say anything. They’re added to their order and then the man makes a questioning noise. “Yeah, that’s all.”

He’s already digging through his wallet when the man gives them their total. Peter makes a little noise, and when Harley glances over at him it looks like he’s trying to juggle an uncooperative Morgan into one arm so he can wrestle into his pocket.

“I got it, babe,” Harley says mindlessly, pulling out the plastic card Pepper had given him the day before, when Harley had arrived and been shown to the guest room. He taps it on the machine, making a little noise of wonder when it beeps up at him. Very neat.

They shuffle along the counter, and Harley finally listens in to what his two companions are talking about. Morgan is currently going on about the importance of pickles on cheeseburgers and how disgusting mustard is while Peter easily keeps up with her excited babble of commentary. It’s fucking adorable, and Harley will certainly deny it, but it makes his heart feel soft and too big for his chest.

He grabs the tray when it’s set down, following behind Peter to a booth. Even though they haven’t said much to each other in the last little bit, nothing about it feels uncomfortable. Peter is clearly occupied with Morgan, which Harley doesn’t mind at all. Sure, the girl had hijacked their date, but she’s too cute for him to care.

“What do you guys want to drink?” Harley asks, setting down the tray after Peter sets Morgan down in one side of the booth before he scoots to the inside of the opposite side.

“Sprite, please,” Peter tells him with a sweet smile, looking up at him in a way that has Harley’s very overactive imagination crafting certain scenarios.

“Sprite, please,” Morgan parrots adorably, and Harley bites his lip to stop from cooing.

“Two sprites for two pretty honeys, coming right up,” Harley gives them both a grin, winking at Peter as he walks away. He has no idea how to saunter, something Tony had tried to teach him but Harley had never been able to get down, so instead he gets their drinks as quickly as he can so he could hurry back.

“—ite to wait for Harley, especially because he bought us lunch.” Peter is telling Morgan patiently.

“Did he buy us lunch because he loves you? Daddy is always buying Mommy things because he loves her,” Morgan says, completely unaware that her words, while adorable, clearly break Peter’s heart—and Harley’s, if he’s being completely honest with himself, because G _od_ does it still hurt so much.

“Something like that, little miss,” Harley says as lightly as he can, sliding in beside Peter and bumping their shoulders together. He gives him the most charming smile he can muster, the one he pulled out when he first introduced himself, and the boy blushes. Hell yeah. “Time to eat.”

It’s quiet while they dig in. Harley hasn’t had the best time eating the last few days, but it seems like a greasy cheeseburger is exactly what he needs to finally keep food down. He all but inhales it, the three of them quiet as they dig in. Morgan is humming as she eats, way too small in the booth but sitting up on her knees. Harley isn’t totally sure if she should be in a booster seat or something, but he figures it’s probably fine.

Peter definitely seems like he’d be the type to know how to take care of a child, and he seems to think she’s okay as he is, so. He’ll go with it.

“So, little miss, are you enjoying your cheeseburger?” Harley asks, throwing his arm around the back of the booth now that he’s only picking at his fries. Peter has already gone through two and is unpeeling his last burger and biting into it with a happy noise. He even makes eating adorable. Harley is _fucked_.

“Hungry, babe?” The word still feels a little foreign, seeing as he’s never used it before, but he likes the way it sounds and likes, even more, the way it makes Peter’s cheeks turn pink.

“I have a high metabolism,” Peter mumbles, ducking his head.

“No judgment here,” he says, letting his fingers brush against Peter’s shoulder tentatively. The other boy doesn’t do anything for a moment, and then he leans further back against the booth so that Harley’s arm presses against his shoulders and the back of his neck.

“Oh, so how much was everything? I know May has some cash, so I can pay you back once we get back,” he says, smiling widely when he looks up at Harley, taking another bite of his burger. _He’s fucking adorable_.

“Haven’t you heard, Pete,” Harley asks, his own smile anything but nice. “We’re millionaires now.”

“Harles,” Peter says softly, bringing his hand to rest warmly on Harley’s thigh. Harley stares at the hand as he tries to work out something to say, annoyed with himself for being so damn snarky when all Peter was doing was offering to pay him back for his part of the meal.

“It’s okay, Pete. I asked you out. ‘Sides, if I didn’t pay Tony _and_ my mama would come back just to tan my hide.”

When Peter snorts, Harley turns to him with a raised brow, but he’s mostly thankful the boy isn’t saying anything about his previous tone. Peter’s hand is still sitting on his thigh, which is probably why Harley manages to bite down another sarcastic retort and let Peter explain. “Sorry, sorry. Just, _tan your hide?_ Who even says that?” Harley smiles at him fondly, a small quirk of his lips that falls when Peter asks, “What...uhm, what happened to your mom?”

This time, Harley snorts, but the sound doesn’t hold any humour. “They keep saying everyone was brought back. _We_ were. But a lot of people died when the grape snapped his finger. Guess my mom was on her way to get Lissa and—” Harley cuts himself off, turning his head to stare out the window. Peter’s hand on his thigh tightens, and he tugs Peter close against his side just to feel him. “Shit happens. And this. This was pretty big shit.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Peter says softly, pressing even closer. Peter tucks himself against his side, resting against him as he looks over at Morgan as though it _hurts_ , and he knows Peter’s thinking the same as him—that yeah, it was pretty big fucking shit, but at least there was one good thing that came from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anything you want to happen in this fic? leave it in the comments!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dramatic, but I couldn't get the thought out of my head.

Harley touches him all through lunch. Simple, little things that make Peter’s heart speed up and his cheeks flush, and he quickly overcomes his shyness and starts touching back. He holds Harley's thigh as the boy talks about his mom. He cuddles up to his side when an arm is thrown over his shoulders. As Morgan is finishing up her meal, Peter takes about three minutes to talk himself into turning his head and pressing a quick, feather-light to Harley's sharp jaw—which earns him the most breathtaking smile Peter has ever  _ seen _ .

When they walk back to the car, it's with their hands twined together and Morgan dancing ahead of them. The little girl is transformed—as though a cheeseburger was all she needed to get over the grief of losing her father. Peter knows it's not a fair thing to think, knows from his own  _ experience _ that it's going to hit her hard as soon as she realizes dead means  _ forever _ .

But he wishes he could bounce back like she has. Instead, he sways his and Harley's joined hands and focuses on how lucky he feels, to have something so shiny and new and feeling like nothing but potential. All the hurt is still there, but there's something lighter sitting atop it, and it makes it much easier to bear.

“I'll get her into her seat,” Harley tells him when they get to his car, and  _ swats Peter's ass _ as he turns away. He whips his head around, his cheeks warmer than they have ever been before, and stutters a few times before he juts his chin into the air and walks to the passenger side.

He can hear Morgan and Harley giggling together even as he shuts his door, and the noise only gets louder once Harley starts getting Morgan into the car. The noise is so sweet that he can't even pretend to be annoyed—not that he ever was, but popping a half-chub in front of a four-year-old girl is absolutely not something he ever wants to do.

He doesn’t look over when Harley gets into the drivers. Peter stares resolutely ahead, not upset but wanting to make sure Harley knows he didn’t appreciate the action. The other boy doesn’t say anything for a short while, and the only noise comes from Morgan humming to herself and Harley’s fingers tapping against the centre console. 

“Sorry, honey,” Harley says, twisting the word into a  _ drawl _ that makes Peter feel a little faint, his blood not knowing if it should rush to his dick or up to his cheeks. It's very confusing, and he finds that he's unable to do anything other than mouth uselessly until his lungs burn and he remembers he needs to breathe. 

He looks over to find Harley already staring at him, though he only seems to notice how dark Harley's eyes have gotten once he's breathing again, the boy staring at him so intently that Peter feels like he's an equation that Harley is desperately trying to figure out. “Damn, babe. That was—”

“Can we go home now?” Morgan's voice shocks them both out of the moment. Peter snaps his eyes to where his hands are gripping his thighs, taking a shaky breath that he lets out slowly.

“Yeah, little miss,” Harley says with a rough voice. It makes Peter shiver again, even though the boy isn't talking to him. A moment later, a hand lands on his thigh, warm and firm and already becoming familiar, and Peter shivers all over again.

“Harls,” he says weakly, but the boy throws him a grin that makes his protest die on his tongue. “Fine,” Peter accepts, covering Harley’s hand with his own and keeping it down when Harley tries to slide it higher. 

The rest of the drive is peaceful. Tony’s home isn’t too far into the country, but it takes them a good half hour to get back with how slowly Harley seems to be driving. It definitely didn’t feel like it took that long to get there, but Peter had been really focused on Morgan and the butterflies that Harley’s hand on his thigh were producing. Now that the feeling of Harley’s hands on him isn’t quite as overwhelming, he’s able to focus more on the actual drive and not trying to act like he wasn’t internally freaking out. 

Even though it’s been nearly an hour and a half since they’ve left, it looks like everyone is still there. There’s the same number of cars, and Peter can see a table filled with food off to the side, but there’s only a handful of people milling about. Most of the party is still inside, but Morgan insists on showing them her “play pad” as Harley lifts her out of the car. 

Peter joins them, letting Harley snag his hand and tug him closer. He stumbles into the other boy’s side as they trail after Morgan, who’s chattering happily about her toys and the things she gets to do in the tent and all the fun games she plays. Harley grins at him, and the expression makes Peter’s heart flip over in his chest.

God, he’s so gone. 

When he chances a glance over at Morgan, the girl isn’t waiting to show them her play place. She’s only walked a few feet away, but the people she’s currently walking up to make Peter’s heart stop. He listens, straining his senses as he shuts out what Harley is saying to focus on the little girl that has made a place for herself in Peter’s heart in only a handful of conversations.

“Babe?” The endearment and the touch to his wrist grab his attention. He doesn’t look away from where Morgan is, but he does make a questioning noise so Harley knows he’s listening. “That...is that who I think it is?”

“Yes,” he says shortly, deciding that they’re already standing for too close for his comfort, and begins to walk forward, dragging Harley with him.

They only make it three steps before Morgan is reaching out and tugging on Wanda Maximoff’s dress. The woman turns around, and Peter stops dead in his tracks, blinding fear slamming into his belly when he remembers everything this woman has done. 

It takes a moment before he’s able to focus on what’s going on. “How do you know my Daddy?” Morgan is asking. Peter remembers her asking him and his aunt the same thing when they first arrived, and wonders if she's asking it of everyone. Still, this is the one—well, maybe one of the four or five—people that Peter never wants Morgan talking to. 

“We were heroes together,” Wanda says, and Peter’s free hand clenches into a fist so tight that his bitten-down nails dig into his skin. Wanda steps forward. 

“Really? My Daddy is the bestest hero in the world!” Morgan exclaims loudly, not a single hint of doubt in her voice. 

“Well,” Wanda says slowly, her face twisting into a frown as she tries to bite down the retort she clearly feels like making. 

He doesn't like it. 

Harley makes a noise beside him, something low enough that it was probably nothing more than an exhalation of breath, but his entire body goes tense. Peter can feel the shift around him as Harley readies himself for something, not that Peter has any idea what that something might be. He and Harley are certainly both looking at the same thing, but Harley seems even more upset than Peter is.

Wanda bends down, her hand reaching out, and faster than  _ Peter _ can process, Harley has a gun out, safety clicked off, and aimed at Wanda's head. Luckily Morgan isn’t in the way, but Harley still slowly shuffles to the side to ensure that she wouldn’t be anywhere the bullet's path.

“Back away, witch,” Harley grits out from between his teeth. The entire backyard goes dead silent save for the soothing breeze that is rocking the trees. For a long, endless moment, nothing happens. No one moves and no one breathes.

“Harls?” Morgan asks, eyes darting between the boy and the lady in front of her with a look of rather understandable confusion.

Harley lets go of Peter’s fingers to hold out his hand, but his stance doesn’t shift nor does his aim. “C’mere, little miss.”

Thankfully, Morgan listens. She shuffles backward, smartly not taking her eyes off the woman in front of her. Wanda rises to her full height, her face settling into something ugly. Peter’s fingers immediately go to his wrist where he twists his watch band so that it expands into a web shooter. It had been a birthday present from Mr. Stark, and having to use it  _ here _ feels an insult to the man’s memory. 

But he’s not going to take any chances. Not with the Scarlet Witch. 

“I see red mist, I’m gonna shoot,” Harley threatens. His voice doesn’t waver; it’s as steady as he is, aiming a gun at a superhero’s head. 

Morgan is only a few steps away when the Winter Soldier springs into action. He’s fast, but Peter is faster, and he easily circles around Harley to catch the metal fist aimed at the boy’s shoulder. The impact echos in the silence, though Peter doesn’t so much as flinch. The gears whirl loudly, hissing as they try to work, and Barnes tries to push against Peter’s hold. Neither of their hands move. Barnes grits his teeth, shifting his hips and his shoulders until Peter decides enough is enough, and he pushes back.

Sheer panic crosses Barnes’ face before Peter slips behind him, bringing the metal limb and kicking out the back of Barnes’ knees. It only takes a bit of force to get Barnes to the ground, one of Peter’s knees digging into the small of his back as he pushes the arm higher and higher behind his back, until finally the man gasps out a pained breath. 

“Stay,” he growls, his voice dropping to an octave he only uses when in the suit, speaking from his chest in a way that Tony had helped him perfect. 

“Thanks, honey,” Harley drawls, and despite the situation they’re in, the country drawl still makes him blush. 

The hairs along the back of his neck stand on end, and before Clint can raise the small crossbow from the ground, Peter has it attached to a web and sailing through the air towards him. He shoots two webs in rapid succession that take care of Barton’s hands, and then pushes Barnes arm so far up the man  _ shouts _ in pain.

“Stay where you are, Falcon,” Peter tells the last man, digging his thumb into the metal plating along Barnes’ wrist so he whimpers painfully. 

Wilson stops moving. 

In the next moment, the entire party empties out of the house, no doubt hearing Barnes’ cry of pain. It’s more superheroes than Peter has ever seen in one place—other than that final fight on the compound’s grounds—but he doesn’t let himself focus on seeing so many people he looks up to. May is standing off to the side with a hand over her mouth, and Peter knows it's the first time she’s ever seen him like this, like  _ Spider-Man _ . 

Pepper’s heels click against the steps as she walks towards them. Still, no one moves. Everyone else has stilled where they are, watching in rapt attention that puts Peter’s senses on edge. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like how it distracts him from the threat and he does his best to tune them out, focusing on Wilson and Clint and keeping his body trained on Barnes—who is smartly not moving. 

“Baby, come here,” Pepper says softly, and Morgan immediately runs across the lawn so she can throw herself into her mother’s arms. She clings to the woman tightly though she doesn’t cry, silently burying her face in Pepper’s neck. “I think you four should be leaving now.”

Now that Morgan is safe, Harley has produced another gun and has it aimed at Wilson. It’s...well, Peter is pretty sure he shouldn't find it unbearably hot, but Harley is standing tall, stance wide, and is steadily holding aim on two superheroes. It’s fucking  _ arousing _ , and Peter makes a little noise in the back of his throat that he can’t help.

Under him, Barnes chuckles even as he heaves for breath. “I know the feelin’, kid,” Barnes tells him, and Peter twists his arm further in response. 

“Peter,” Pepper says softly, and it’s only then that he lets his hold lessen a fraction. “Let him up so he can leave.”

For a moment, he considers telling her no or breaking the metal arm under his hands. He could, he knows. Peter has more power than he any idea what to do with, but he holds himself back and stands up slowly. He steps towards Harley but makes sure he can still see Barnes and Barton, trusting Harley to keep an eye on the other two. 

“You aren’t a hero,” Peter says. There’s no mistaking who he’s talking to, even if he doesn’t turn around. “M-Mr. Stark was a hero. You were just a child who was given power and let it corrupt you.”

“Who do you think you are?” she demands loudly, and Peter’s flicks her eyes to her to see her fingers twisting as magic begins to swirl between them. It dies out when a gun goes off, and she holds up her arm to look at the smoking hole in the loose fabric of her sleeve. 

Harley brings the gun level to her head. “That was a warning. There won’t be another one.” 

“You are no different than I am, Spider,” Wanda snarls as she turns away. Barnes walks over to her, his arm hanging limply at his side, leaning into Wilson once they meet up. 

“I’ve never brainwashed someone into seeing their greatest fears come to life so they build an evil robot that tries to destroy the world and then take none of the blame even though it was all my fault, but go off I guess,” Peter mumbles, finally letting himself calm down now that Bruce-Hulk and Happy are in the backyard and walking towards where the four are climbing into their cars, Clint slowly herding his family into a van. Harley is still holding his guns up, but Peter presses himself against his back and raises himself onto his toes so he can hook his chin over his shoulder. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs into Harley’s ear, grabbing his hips and trailing his hands around his side until he has him in a loose hug. “You can put the guns down now.”

It takes a moment, but eventually, Harle’s entire body goes loose. Peter is glad he’s there, seeing as he has to hug Harley tightly to him to keep him upright as the boy’s knees completely give out. He’s shaking, so he presses a hand to the centre of Harley’s chest and holds tight, hoping that the feeling of them completely pressed together will help. 

“I had no idea what I was doing!” Harley exclaims suddenly, his voice cracking. He grabs onto Peter’s forearm so tightly he knows it’s going to bruise, but he says nothing. “I’ve only ever fired a potato gun!”

“Wanna learn?”

Peter has to jerk his head back to avoid having Harley’s skull bash his nose in when the boy whips his own head around.

“We still need people to protect the earth,” Rhodey states. His words have the slightest slur to them. 

“I—” his fingers tangle with Peter’s, and Peter finally relaxes onto the balls of his feet. He presses his face into Harley’s back, holding him close but not saying anything. “I’ll think on it.”

Peter doesn’t see what happens next, but he recognizes May’s voice as she beckons people back inside. He takes a deep breath and loses himself in the musky smell of  _ Harley _ , holding him tighter just to reassure himself that everyone is fine and okay and that nothing bad happened. Hell, for all they know nothing bad was  _ going  _ to happen, but he still feels like he can barely breathe, like panic is gripping his chest. 

“H-Harls,” Morgan says quietly, his voice shaking. A second later, he and Harley rock sideways when a weight crashes into their legs, and Peter takes the hand that isn’t held in Harley’s and wraps it around Morgan’s back to press the little girl closer. 

“Up! I want up,” she demands with all the righteousness of a four-year-old.

He hates having to let go of Harley, but he steps back. As soon as the other boy has Morgan settled in his arms Peter is pressing right back in, hugging them both tightly and squishing Morgan between them until she starts complaining that it’s too tight.

“Thank you for saving me,” she says, darting forward to kiss Harley’s cheek noisily and then turning in his arms to do the same to Peter. 

“Thank you, boys,” Pepper says. When Peter looks over, her eyes are red and shining, but she seems rather okay. 

Peter holds his hand out, and folds her into the hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...There will be fluff soon? I promise? I have plans for the next two chapters, but again, if there's anything you wanna see happen in this story, leave it in a comment! I have no major plans for this fic, so I'm just going wherever it takes me :D

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/) and cry with me about Endgame!


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